


Finding Eden

by xBlackxRosexRebellionx



Series: The Fallen Series [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: But plenty of smut to make up for it, F/M, Fallen Angel Smutfic, Fallen Angel falls for a human, Heavy Angst, Heavy Feels, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Not tied to Legion movie, Product of my latest Paul Bettany obsession, Religious ties, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23565400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xBlackxRosexRebellionx/pseuds/xBlackxRosexRebellionx
Summary: Libby has loved and lost a fallen angel that she spent five months nursing back to health after he was stripped of his grace and cast out of Heaven. For the past eight months now, she has thought that he was dead, beating herself up for not telling him how she felt sooner, for not acting on her feelings for him. But, in her moment of weakness, she calls out to him and discovers that Michael is both very much alive and very remorseful for not having let her know so sooner. Libby is going to take this opportunity to show him how she truly feels about him and run with it.Smutfic about two original characters I've designed. I may write more about them in the future, if enough people are interested in reading more about them.
Relationships: Fallen Angel/Human, Michael/Libby, Original Male Character/Original Female Character
Series: The Fallen Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696159
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Finding Eden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AliceInArkham89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceInArkham89/gifts).



> This is a little something that my crazy brain concocted. I had just finished watching Legion and had developed a rather sudden and unyielding infatuation with all things Paul Bettany - Legion, Priest, anything Vision-related, you name it. While this doesn't tie into the Legion movies, I suppose you could say that seeing him in the movie Legion prompted some inspiration for this story. That being said, the characters in this story were of my own creation and I really enjoyed writing about them. I hope you have as much fun reading about them as I did writing them.
> 
> Also, I would like to thank my amazing friend and brainstorming buddy, AliceInArkham89, for all of your patience and assistance. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me over the past couple years, dear. It's always such a pleasure brainstorming with you and picking your brain on this topic or that one. Our chats are just so incredibly insightful, and there's never a dull moment when I'm talking to you. I guess you could say you're my "unofficial, official beta". So this one's for you, dear.

_Will the faithful be rewarded  
When we come to the end?  
Will I miss the final warning  
From the lie that I have lived?  
Is there anybody calling?  
I can see the soul within  
And I am not worthy  
I am not worthy of this_

_Are you with me after all?  
Why can't I hear you?  
Are you with me through it all?  
Then why can't I feel you?_

_  
Stay with me, don't let me go  
Because there's nothing left at all  
Stay with me, don't let me go  
Until the Ashes of Eden fall_

_Will the darkness fall upon me  
When the air is growing thin?  
Will the light begin to pull me  
To its everlasting will?  
I can hear the voices haunting  
There is nothing left to fear  
And I am still calling  
I am still calling to you_

_Are you with me after all?  
Why can't I hear you?  
Are you with me through it all?  
Then why can't I feel you?_

_  
Stay with me, don't let me go  
Because there's nothing left at all  
Stay with me, don't let me go  
Until the Ashes of Eden fall_

_(Don’t let go)_

_(Don’t let go)_

_(Don’t let go)_

_(Don’t let go)_

_(Don’t let go)_

_(Don’t let go)_

_Why can't I hear you?_

_  
Stay with me, don't let me go (Don’t let go, don’t let go)  
Because there's nothing left at all (Don’t let go, don’t let go)  
Stay with me, don't let me go (Don’t let go, don’t let go)  
Until the Ashes of Eden fall (Don’t let go, don’t let go)_

_  
Heaven above me, take my hand (Stay with me, don’t let me go)  
Shine until there's nothing left but you  
Heaven above me, take my hand (Stay with me, don’t let me go)  
Shine until there's nothing left but you_

Libby’s hands slowly roamed over her body, lathering the black raspberry and vanilla shower gel into her skin. Though she went through the motions, her mind was elsewhere, her thoughts clouded and heavy. It was often that her thoughts drifted, that they skirted away to a certain blonde, blue-eyed angel, an angel who had had his wings clipped, his grace ripped from him, and had been cast down onto Earth.

She had spent _weeks_ nursing said fallen angel back to health, tending to his wounds and offering him what little comfort she could. For five months, they had shared meals together, read books together, told jokes and reminisced over old memories together. And, with time, they had even shared their own sob stories with one another. She had come to know the sweet, kind, gentle, compassionate soul who had once served as God’s most admirable warrior.

And then that angel had selflessly sacrificed his life for hers. What had started off as just another ordinary trip to the grocery store had turned into the worst day of her life when the car in the other lane had swerved and struck them head on. Her angel had jerked the wheel, gallantly throwing himself into harm’s way and proving yet again that he was the single most noble and genuine person she had ever met. He had spared her life that day, accepting a fate that had been meant for her, and he had been accepted back into Heaven for his heroic and selfless actions.

Had she known that she would never see him again after that day, Libby would have told him how she felt about him. She would have told him that he had carried her heart with him in an iron-like grip that day and that he had left behind a cold, dark, empty void where it had once beaten, that she had never been the same since. And she knew that she _would_ never be the same.

Losing her grasp on her tightly restrained self-pity, Libby felt herself crack and crumble, her shoulders slumping as the first of her tears started to fall. She let one hand rest against the shower wall, ducking her head beneath the spray of the shower as she brought her forehead down to press it against the cold, wet tiles of the shower wall. The sobs wracked her body, her small frame shaking as she broke.

“Where are you, Michael?” she whispered, “I miss you… _God,_ I miss you _so_ much…”

She didn’t hear the flutter of wings over the spray of the shower. Nor did she see a hand slip around the shower curtain, easing it back. But when she felt a strong set of arms wrap around her from behind, she yelped, nearly jumping right out of her skin, and slipped on the wet floor of the shower. She would have tumbled over backwards if it wasn’t for the sturdy presence behind her, holding her tightly and keeping her upright.

“Why do you cry?” she heard that deep, velvety, familiar voice murmur just beside her ear, “What troubles you so?”

“Oh, Michael!” she cried, throwing caution to the wind and turning into his warm embrace.

She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly to her and burying her face in the soft, wet, black cotton of his shirt. She breathed him in deep, taking in the familiar scent that was Michael – a strange but exotic and intoxicating blend of oranges, lemon, olive oil, sandalwood, and bergamot. It was musky, masculine, and yet citrusy, stealing over her like a calming blanket of warmth and solace. She hadn’t known it then but, while she’d been trying to give him sanctuary all those months ago, trying to heal his wounds and offer him what little comfort she could, it was _him_ who had healed _her._ It was _him_ who had given _her_ sanctuary. And now, eight months later, that realization hit her like a fucking freight train.

When she finally lifted her face up out of his soaked through t-shirt, she gazed up to find those striking, steely gray eyes peering down at her, his brow furrowed in concern and the worry etched all over his handsome face.

“You came,” she mumbled, more tears escaping to slip down her cheeks as she smiled up at him.

“You called to me,” he said, as if the answer was so obvious.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. Was it really that simple? She called and he came running?

“Well, yes,” he replied to her unspoken question.

She jerked her head back slightly, her emerald eyes growing wide, and stared up at him in shock.

“Michael…?” she asked, her voice quiet, hesitant, as she gazed up at him.

He couldn’t really hear her thoughts… Could he?

“I…” he started, pausing for a moment as if he was trying to figure out how to word his response before he finally answered, “Yes.”

Her jaw fell open then. Holy _shit!_

She felt his body tense at her use of the curse word and was quick to apologize, murmuring a soft, “Sorry.”

He simply nodded.

“How… How long?” she inquired, still not quite able to believe that he could actually read her thoughts.

“For some time now,” he told her.

“How long, exactly, is ‘for some time’?” she pressed.

“Since you were born,” he replied, not able to look her in the eye.

“Since… _What?!”_ she cried in disbelief, her dark brows hiking up her forehead.

“I was… How can I say this without it coming off as… well… I guess you might call it… creepy…” he tried to explain, “I was assigned to watch over you. It wasn’t often that I was tasked with the job of watching over a human since my particular skill set made me more proficient as one of my Father’s soldiers. But your case was a rather particular exception, and he’d said that he trusted no one else with the assignment –,”

But Libby was still stuck on the part where he’d said that he had been watching over her from the time she was born, her brain unable to focus on any of the other details as he continued to speak.

“Oh my God…” she mumbled.

But, rather than be repulsed or regard him as more of a father figure rather than the man that she had come to befriend during his time there on Earth, now that she knew about his previous assignment as her guardian angel, Libby’s first thought flew to the rather embarrassing fact that she had spent a few nights trying – and failing – to get herself off while thinking of him after she’d lost him. Her cheeks flushed a bright shade of red, her viridescent eyes widening, and her gaze flew up to his, only to find that his face was ablaze as well, his cheeks, his throat, and even his ears boasting a bright shade of pink.

“Did you…?” she started to ask before trailing off as she tried to find a way to word the question without offending his little angelic, virgin ears.

“Yes, I overheard your… thoughts…” he answered, giving a curt nod but not letting his eyes meet her gaze, “But not… not intentionally.”

He stared at the white tiles on the wall, the white paint on the ceiling, the blue checkered, plastic shower curtain, anything but her.

“Oh…” she said, her eyes lowering to the shower floor.

And that was when she realized that he was still fully clothed, standing there under the shower spray, getting soaked to the bone.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, realizing just seconds after that that she was still hugging him to her naked body, which _had_ to be making the angel uncomfortable.

“I… I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I just… I was so happy to see you. I’ve missed you so much and then, suddenly you were here and… I’m sorry.”

He simply nodded, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes focused on the tiles of the wall just above her head.

“I um… I’ll just… Just give me a minute…” she told him, turning around in his grasp and going through the motions of rinsing herself off before she shut off the water there in the shower and stepped out onto the fluffy little rug in front of it.

She smiled to herself as she took in the steely gray color of the rug, curling her toes into the soft material for a moment. Talia had laughed at her when she’d picked it out, but Libby loved it. It was the color of Michael’s eyes, a shade somewhere between storm clouds in the summer and sterling silver.

She reached out to grab her favorite, fluffy, lilac colored towel from the countertop beside the sink and quickly ran it over her body, not bothering with her hair.

She was quick to dress, pulling on a three-quarter sleeved, navy colored, cotton jersey with Eeyore boasted in bright yellow on the front. The shirt was cut into a V at the top, showing off a little of her cleavage, and it fell halfway down her thighs.

She pulled on a pair of matching, navy boy shorts underneath it and then announced to the angel in her shower, “Okay. I’m decent.”

She watched as one large hand reached out, wrapping around the edge of the shower curtain and slowly pulling it back until he could peer around it, just his head visible around the edge of the curtain. She giggled as he checked to see if the coast was really clear.

Once he was satisfied that she was, in fact, covered, he stepped out from behind the curtain and onto the rug. He had a sheepish look on his face, his cheeks, his neck, and even his ears still boasting that bright shade of pink, and he wouldn’t meet her gaze, focusing those gray eyes down on his feet instead.

“Michael…?” she asked.

Had she done something wrong?

“No…” he mumbled, shaking his head, “I just… I saw…”

“You saw what?” she inquired.

“I saw you… naked…” he elaborated, though he was barely able to get the words out, tripping and stumbling over the words as he struggled to get them out in the proper order, “I didn’t mean to! I just… You turned and… and I couldn’t… I couldn’t divert my eyes in time… I’m sorry!”

Libby laughed then, shaking her head at him, and replied, “Michael, it’s all right.”

“But it’s not,” he tried to protest, shaking his head as his gaze finally met hers, those steely gray eyes locking on her green ones, “I shouldn’t have.”

Libby had closed the distance between them before she even realized it, reaching one small hand up to press it to the side of his face as she murmured, “Michael, it’s fine. Trust me. I don’t have a problem with it.”

In fact, she _wanted_ him to look at her.

“But it’s a sin,” he tried to reason with her, his brows furrowing and his lips curling down in distaste at the idea of angering his Father.

He’d already done that once and the consequences had been _severe._ He had _no_ intentions of doing it again.

But Libby’s brows furrowed at that. She didn’t understand.

“It’s a sin to covet,” he explained, “To lust after someone, especially someone who doesn’t belong to you.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes lowering to the floor, and took a step back, separating herself from him.

She wasn’t stupid. She could take a hint. Apparently, he didn’t want her like she wanted him, like she’d wanted him for _months_ now. Hell, she would’ve _happily_ shared her bed with him all those months ago, had she known that she wouldn’t see him again for eight months.

“Elizabeth, you don’t know what you’re asking,” the angel tried to tell her.

But she shook her head, turning her back to him and starting out of the room. She knew _exactly_ what she wanted, and it was the stubborn angel that had so selflessly sacrificed himself for her, the same angel that she had shared her life with for five months while he had been healing. But why would he ever want a miserable, wretched creature like her?

“Stop,” she heard him say, making her jump as she realized that he was not five steps behind her, “You are not miserable. And you are _not_ wretched. You are not some _creature,_ Elizabeth. You are a beautiful, compassionate, generous human being who showed me more sympathy and kindness than my own kind ever have.”

But that wasn’t enough, was it? Her kind, humans, they were so far beneath him. She supposed it made sense, really, the reason why he didn’t want her. She wasn’t like him. She was something different, something flawed and unpredictable, something with all these imperfections. And an angel like Michael, he was flawless, free from sin, free from the trivial burdens of the daily grind humans dealt with every day, free from the fear of making the wrong choices or having to live with the consequence of fucking something up. He was perfect in every way.

“I am not,” he insisted, shaking his head, “I too have struggles. I have my moments of doubt, my insecurities, my occasional lapse in faith. Why do you think I was cast out of Heaven all those months ago? I was disobedient, Elizabeth.”

But none of that mattered to her.

“I love you…” she mumbled, more to herself than to him, “I love you and you just… you just _left_ me! You left me so alone and cold and heartbroken. I thought you were _dead,_ Michael!”

“I truly am sorry for that,” he told her.

She whirled on him then, her emerald eyes full of fire as she demanded, “Why didn’t you come see me? Come talk to me? Why didn’t you at least find a way to let me know that you were okay? What? Was I not worth it?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head and reaching out towards her, “No, Elizabeth, that’s not it at all. I wanted to. I wanted to so badly, but –,”

But she stepped back, just out of his reach, shaking her head at him, and she saw the pain that filled his eyes as he let his hand fall.

But that pain was nothing compared to what she felt. And she let it be known.

“But what? But you had orders? But you were too busy? But you couldn’t find the time?” she questioned, “Or was it that you had just hoped that I would move on? That I would just forget about you?”

“No, it’s not like that,” he tried to explain, “It’s not that simple.”

“Nothing ever is with you, is it?” she spat, feeling the tears of frustration begin to prick the back of her eyes and hating herself as her voice began to break, showing just how miserable she really felt, “I gave five months of my life trying to nurse you back to health, trying to get you back on your feet. I spent five months taking care of you and sharing my life with you. And those five months were the best months of my life. God! How pathetic is that?”

She laughed at herself then, shaking her head as the tears began to fall.

“I spent five fucking months falling in _love_ with you, you asshole!” she shouted at him, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “And for what? For you to go back to Heaven and just forget that I ever existed? You _died,_ Michael. I watched you. I sat there and stared at your lifeless body while they tried to resuscitate you, over and over. I was there when they pronounced you dead. And for the past eight fucking months, I have tried – and failed _quite_ miserably, if I do say so myself – to get along without you. And then I find out tonight that you were in Heaven all this time?”

“Elizabeth, I didn’t forget about you!” he cried, his voice rising in his desperation, “If you really think that I could just forget about you, you never really knew me at all! I didn’t _forget_ about you. How could I? After everything you’ve done for me? After the kindness and generosity and selflessness you’d shown me? No. I didn’t forget about you. I thought about you _every_ day. But coveting after a human is one of the greatest sins that an angel can ever commit. And if Father had known that I thought about you… If He had known _how_ I had thought about you… Being cast out of Heaven would be the _least_ of my worries.”

Michael watched as the feisty little human jerked her head back, her brows furrowing for a moment in confusion before those enchanting, emerald eyes widened as realization set in.

“You mean…?” she mumbled.

“Yes,” he answered with a nod, “I wanted you. I’ve wanted you for _months_ now. But I can’t… I’m an angel, Elizabeth.”

While she generally hated people calling her by her full name, for him, she allowed it. In fact, she rather preferred the sound of her full name spilling from his lips. She had thought, on more than one occasion, that nothing had ever sounded better as it rolled off of his lips in that British accent. So, he continued to use it. He’d do anything for her. Of that, he was certain. He knew that now. And that was why this conversation was treading slowly into treacherous waters. He had to find a way to divert her attention. And fast.

He was just opening his mouth to speak, to say something, _anything_ to get her mind off of this topic and onto something safer, when it hit him. The image of the lithe little brunette splayed on her back, her long, raven colored hair fanning out over the pillow as she pinched one nipple with the fingers of one hand while the fingers of her other hand worked frantic circles over that little bundle of nerves that was buried between her thighs flashed through his mind.

He staggered backwards slightly, his knees threatening to give out on him as he reached out and braced himself with one hand against the wall. He couldn’t… He couldn’t think of her like that.

But the images kept coming.

He saw her moaning his name, saw her throwing her head back as she whined and brought one hand down to fist her fingers in the short, blonde locks of his hair, yanking slightly as she came undone beneath him as he explored her with his tongue. He saw her peering up at him from under those long, dark, thick lashes as she worked her tongue along his length, trailing her tongue up the underside of him until she reached the broad head and welcomed it inside of her warm, wet mouth. He saw her throwing her head back in ecstasy as she rode him, moaning out his name to the ceiling as she curled her fingers over his chest to brace herself and angled her hips to take him deeper inside of her.

“Stop!” he cried, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs as he practically gasped for air.

His body was responding, his cock twitching and starting to come alive in his pants. His heart slammed against his ribcage, his muscles tensing with a need that he had never before experienced. His knees buckled, sending him to the floor as he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

“Stop…” he practically begged, pressing his forehead to the wall as he tried to regain his bearings.

Libby opened her eyes, finding that the man looked completely wrecked. His voice was like that of a wounded animal, a tortured soul gazing back at her with those striking, steel colored irises. She had gotten her point across, loud and clear.

“I’m sorry…” she murmured quietly, directing her gaze down to the floor, “I shouldn’t have… That was cruel… I just… I just wanted you to know… I wanted you to know that I can’t stop thinking about you… like that…”

“It _was_ cruel,” he practically groaned in agony, closing his eyes and trying to slow his breathing as he rested his forehead there against the cool surface of the wall, “And now that I’ve seen it, I can never _unsee_ it.”

And that was the worst part because she had plagued his thoughts for the whole eight months that he had been away from her. _Oh,_ how he’d longed to see her, to talk to her, to even just be _near_ her. And yet, above all of those things, was the burning desire to _touch_ her and to _be_ touched by her. Now that she had placed those images in his head, now that they were imprinted into his mind, they would be with him always. And that was a _very_ dangerous realization.

He heard her quiet footsteps, her small, bare feet padding across the carpet towards him, and he held out one shaking hand, mumbling weakly, “Don’t…”

But she reached out, slowly lacing her fingers through his, her hand so small and delicate against his large, strong one.

She brought her head down to press her lips to the top of his head and murmured softly, “I love you, Michael. And it took losing you to realize that you were the single most important thing to me in this life. You are the most influential person I have ever let into my life, the one person that has seen every part of me, the one person that truly _understands_ me. I shared things with you that I have never shared with _anyone_ else, not even with my best friend. And when you left me, I realized that you were all I ever wanted.”

His gray eyes opened, his head tilting slowly until those steely gray orbs met her bright green ones.

“That hasn’t changed, Michael. All I want is you,” she whispered, peering down at him and slowly lowering herself until she was kneeling beside him.

She could see so many emotions rolling through those stormy gray depths – anguish, guilt, remorse, shame, even a shred of fear. But, beneath all of those emotions lied one so pure and honest that it nearly sent her reeling. For what she discovered in those beautiful, ethereal, gray orbs was love. Not love for her as a human being. Not love for her as a charge that he had been assigned to watch over. Not love for her as one of his Father’s creations. But love for her as a person, a love so strong and unyielding that he was genuinely torn between following his Father’s orders and giving in to the desire to express that love to her.

“Oh, Michael…” she choked out, a heavy lump forming in her throat and her airway threatening to constrict as she felt her chest squeeze tight.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, all ten of her fingers coming up to sift through the short, blonde locks of his hair.

“I love you…” he whispered, his voice sounding just as broken and strained as her own, “I have always loved you.”

She just nodded, but he continued on to say, “No. You need to hear it. I loved you before you were even born, when you still growing and developing inside your mother’s womb. I loved you when you were a child, running around the backyard with your furry little friend chasing after you, making you squeal and giggle wildly. I loved you when you were a teenager and you started going through that rebellious phase, when you would sneak off to go riding around town all night with Talia, staring up at the stars and talking about all the things you couldn’t wait to do once you got older. I loved you even when you hated yourself, during your sophomore year, when that boy you liked convinced you to… I loved you even then, and it pained me to see you suffering so, to see your heart aching over a boy who sought nothing but his own satisfaction and then cast you aside. It was I who protected you from your father’s drunken rage, who sheltered you from your mother’s indifference, for all those years. And it was I who loved you even when your college boyfriend could not. I have loved you all along, Elizabeth, even when you did not know that I was there.”

She did cry then, a choked sob escaping her as the dam broke, giving way to a torrent of liquid diamonds that came rushing down her cheeks like twin rivers.

She’d had no idea. All along, she’d struggled, she’d suffered, she’d hurt. _Oh,_ how she’d hurt! She’d cried alone late at night, thinking that she was alone in her pain. She didn’t want to tell her best friend, couldn’t stand the thought of losing her if she found out what her life was truly like. She’d spent more time at Talia’s house than she’d ever spent at her own, and yet she’d kept the reason behind her desire to be out of the house a secret from even Talia herself.

But Michael had been there with her, every step of the way, the calm that had slipped over her when her tears had run dry and she’d slowly slipped into slumber. Had she known then what she knew now, that her silent prayers had been answered, that there truly _was_ someone there with her, watching over her, she might have had a very different outlook on life. Instead, she had hated herself for something that had been completely out of her control, something that she had had no say in. She had hated herself for a _long_ time for not having the strength to stand up to her father, for giving herself to that boy in high school when he’d wanted nothing more than to put another notch on his belt. And, if she was truly honest with herself, a part of her _still_ hated herself.

“You should not blame yourself, Elizabeth,” he whispered into her ear, “It was not your fault. You were young and naïve, and you thought he loved you. It was an honest mistake. It was not your fault. You have hated yourself for _far_ too long, and I will not allow it anymore. I love you. I love _every_ part of you –,”

“Then _love_ me,” she told him, reaching down to take one of his large hands in her small one and guide it to her chest, over her shirt.

Michael jerked his hand back then, as if he had been scalded, and shook his head, stating, “You do not know what you’re asking. You are hurt and your judgment is clouded –,”

“I know _exactly_ what I want,” she countered, shaking her head, “And I know who I want it from.”

“I cannot give you what you want,” he ground out, though it pained him to admit it.

The agony that filled her eyes then, the betrayal that he saw staring right back at him, would have been enough to bring him to his knees, had he not already been on them.

A broken sob escaped her, and she brought one hand up to press it over her mouth, quickly pushing herself to her feet and turning her back to him as she walked halfway across the room. It felt like his heart was breaking, shattering into a thousand little pieces, as he watched her bury her face in her hands and cry into them. So, this is what a broken heart felt like?

All his life, he had followed orders, until he had found one that he could no longer follow through with. That was how he had been cast out of Heaven just over a year ago. He was supposed to call her home, to bring her to the Gates for judgment day. But he couldn’t bear the thought of her dying. It was “just like snuffing out a candle” Gabriel had told him. But she had suffered so much already, and he couldn’t stand the thought of extinguishing that spark of life that she had finally begun to rekindle. So, he had disobeyed his Father. And, for that, he had been cast out of Heaven. Then, when Gabriel had been sent to kill her, just a few short months after she had found Michael and taken him in, nursing him back to health and sharing her humble home with him, Michael had not hesitated in that split second to spare her life. And, for whatever reason or miracle it may have been, his Father had been pleased by his self-sacrifice, his desire to give his life for another, and he had been accepted back into Heaven.

But of all the orders, all the rules that he had had to follow in his lifetime, this was the hardest. Why should it be so wrong to love someone? To want to share his life with them? To want to ease their pain and give them comfort? Why should it be a sin to want to bond with that person? It no longer made sense to him. And he found that he had a choice. He could either abide by his Father’s strict and unyielding rules or he could claim this beautiful, broken, brutally honest and boldly unashamed woman as his own.

He had never been faced with a harder choice in all his millennia. But his heart knew what his decision would be before his mind even had a chance to protest against it. Denial was futile at this point. He had spent her whole life loving this woman. A bond like that only came once in a lifetime. And he was not about to squander this chance because he knew that he may very well never get another.

Then a voice, loud and clear, cut through his conscious thoughts, a deep baritone speaking the words in a low rumble as they echoed through his mind, “If you make this decision, it will be final.”

“I understand, Father,” Michael replied, bowing his head in submission.

“Do not make this decision lightly, my son,” the voice implored, “For once it is done, it cannot be undone.”

“I do not,” Michael assured his Heavenly Father.

“All your life, you have served me, Michael, and you have served me well,” the voice praised.

“Thank you, Father,” Michael said, “Please forgive me. I never meant to bring you shame or cast doubt upon you. But this woman means more to me than you will ever know. She has sacrificed so much, suffered at the hands of others, and I cannot bear to turn my back on her again. I did it once, and that was hard enough. I cannot do it again.”

“You love this woman, Michael,” the voice said.

It was not a question.

“I do,” Michael answered, “I love her with _every_ part of me.”

“Even my children deserve to be happy, my son,” he heard the voice muse, “To know what love is. It is a very special bond that you share with this human. Enjoy it, Michael. But know that it comes with a price.”

Michael’s brows furrowed at that and he hesitated, if only for a moment, before he nodded, vowing, “I will accept it.”

And he knew that he would. He would do anything, _give_ anything to be with Elizabeth.

“Then it is done,” the voice replied, just before a sharp burst of pain ripped through Michael’s spine.

Michael cried out, his face contorting in agony before he gasped, the pain so sharp it sucked the breath right out of his lungs. He grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut tight against the excruciating ache. He could feel the muscles in his back spasming, and it felt like someone was carving right through the tissues and ligaments of his back and into his spine itself. He brought one hand back, his fingers lightly grazing where his wings had once been, but where now only scars remained.

“It is done,” he agreed, the words coming out as a shaky sigh as something akin to relief washed over him, flooding his senses.

With the realization that he no longer had the weight of the world to carry on his shoulders, a sense peace stole over him. And he let it, basking in its warmth, embracing the calm after the storm.

He opened his eyes to find Libby watching him closely, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide in both surprise and horror.

“Michael…” she whispered, unable to say anything more as she rushed to him and dropped to her knees in front of him, her small hands reaching up to cradle his face and her thumbs gently trailing the length of his cheekbones.

“Michael… What…?” she tried once more.

But Michael only shook his head, telling her, “It is done. I am yours now. _Only_ yours.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion for a moment and he reached up to smooth out the wrinkles between them. He smiled at her then, a real, genuine smile, and brought his forehead down to rest against hers.

“I love you…” he whispered.

She needed to hear that, needed to know that it was true. Because there was no going back now.

“I love you,” she replied without hesitation, nodding her head at him as tears filled her eyes.

But Michael shook his head, reaching up to brush them away, and murmured softly, “No more tears. This is what I wanted. I gave it all for you.”

“No,” she sobbed, shaking her head hard, “No, Michael, you shouldn’t have.”

“But this is what you wanted,” he said, his brows furrowing in confusion.

It was what she wanted. He knew it was. So why, now, was she protesting?

“But you loved who you were, _what_ you were,” she told him, “You loved God and the other angels –,”

“But I love you more,” Michael insisted, his tone allowing no room for argument.

Libby just nodded, sniffling and reaching up to brush the last of her tears away.

She let her eyes drift shut, just basking in the moment for a few minutes, simply sitting there with him on the floor, her forehead pressed to his. Michael let her have a moment with her thoughts before he brought one hand up, reaching up to gently brush a strand of her long, black hair away from her face.

The gesture prompted her to open her eyes, those long, dark lashes fluttering before they parted to reveal her beautiful, viridescent eyes to him. She had the greenest eyes he had ever seen, like two emeralds shining back at him.

He nodded to her then, silently telling her that it was okay, that this was what he wanted. She smiled through her tears and nodded back to him. Then she leaned in slowly, giving him plenty of time to back out and letting her green eyes flicker over his face for any traces of disapproval or rejection. Instead, she watched as he closed those breathtaking, steel gray eyes, sucking in a quick breath before her lips met his soft, warm ones.

She couldn’t help the little whimper that escaped her as she felt him lean closer, pressing his lips more firmly to hers. Her eyes fluttered shut and she brought one hand up behind his head, lacing her fingers through his short, blonde hair. God, his lips were so soft, so warm, so… _perfect._ She molded her lips against his full ones, pulling back after a moment to try to gauge his response.

But she was surprised when he shook his head at her, leaning in to capture her lips with his again, silently telling her that he wasn’t ready for her to pull her lips from his quite yet. So, she let her lips glide against his, pressing more insistently against him until she had to part her lips to gasp in a quick, shuddering breath.

Michael eased back for just a moment, his pale eyes searching her face, his eyes flickering over her beautiful, sweet, cherublike face. He was searching for any sign of regret, remorse, or hesitation. But what he found was pure happiness. And love, _so_ much love, shined back in her eyes.

Her smile was dazzling, those brilliant, emerald eyes lighting up as she gazed up at him. He grinned back down at her, his hands reaching out to find her hips and wrap around them. He tugged her closer, wanting – no _needing –_ to feel her closer to him.

He pulled her towards him, coaxing a surprised little squeak from the woman he loved, and settled her on his lap. He grinned up at her then, finding her perched atop him with one hand tangled in his hair and the other wrapped around the back of his neck. He had one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her against him, her chest brushing against his with every breath she took. His other hand was cradling the back of her head, his fingers laced through the long, wavy, ebony locks of her hair. He used that hand to tug her back down for another kiss.

Michael loved kissing Elizabeth. He loved the soft, velvety sensation of her lips moving against his, the way that her fingers tugged lightly at his hair as her excitement mounted, the weight of her pressed against him in all the right places. There was something so… _arousing_ about the way her hips cradled him as she sat astride him. There was something quite exhilarating in the way she mewled softly against his mouth and gently rocked her pelvis into his.

Michael found the hand that he’d had pressed to the small of her back skirting lower, found his fingers skimming down over the cotton of her shirt to grasp at those tiny boy shorts she was wearing. His fingers tightened reflexively over the curve of her bottom, a groan slipping past his lips as he was reminded that he had seen what lied beneath those shorts. And it didn’t help that he could feel the bottom half of her cheek peeking out from under the cotton material of her panties either.

Michael gasped, surprise and confusion washing over him as he felt a stirring sensation fluttering in his groin. Never before had he felt that, but he was quick to deduce that it must be the mortal sensation of lust. He had never realized just how easy it was for a human to succumb to such a temptation. But now, here, with Elizabeth perched in his lap, her breasts rubbing against his chest and her hips grinding against his as she poked her tongue out of her mouth to slide it slowly over the length of his bottom lip, he was beginning to figure out that it was quite an epic battle indeed. He could see why it was so difficult now, the struggle between lust and self-control raging within him.

He felt her nudging at his lips with her tongue, prodding and licking at the seam of his lips until he finally gave in and let her slip her tongue inside of his mouth. He felt her teasing him with the warm, wet muscle, toying with him as she taunted him with tiny flicks of the tip of her tongue against his, stroking at the side of his tongue and then darting hers away once more. He gave chase at first, thinking that she would teach him the intricate dance, but she merely teased him, licking and sucking at his tongue before retreating back into her own mouth, leaving him chasing after her. Finally, after a few long, frustrating minutes, she twirled her tongue around his, and he surrendered with a groan, his fingers tightening in her hair and over her backside as he pressed her right up against him, plundering his tongue into her mouth and tangling it with hers.

He was tired of her teasing, and he let it be known, a low growl rumbling up from deep within him as he fisted his fingers in her hair and used his other hand to guide her hips right down to his, bucking his hips up into her as he sought more of that maddening friction she provided him with. The motion had coaxed a particularly breathy moan from Elizabeth, the sound equal parts pleasure and need, and it had only served to further excite Michael, prompting him to repeat the gesture.

Within minutes, they were kissing with complete abandon, tongues tangling, teeth nibbling, lips sucking, groans spilling into one another’s mouths. Michael sucked in a sharp breath when he felt her nails scraping lightly over the nape of his neck, the skin there so sensitive that it sent a jolt straight down his spine to his balls, causing his hips to jerk in response.

He pulled his mouth from hers, gasping in a breath before lowering his head to start trailing his mouth down the long, elegant column of her neck, his teeth raking over her flesh and his tongue following to soothe the slight sting he left behind. He watched as she tipped her head back, her eyes closed and her fingers tugging lightly at his hair as her other hand slid up the back of his shirt to trail her fingernails down his spine. And _that_ coaxed an immediate response out of the former angel, his head jerking back and his back bowing, hips arching, as a strangled groan escaped through his tightly clenched teeth.

Libby sought the opportunity to dart forward and catch his ear between her lips, suckling at his earlobe. The sound that spilled from his lips then was the closest thing to a whine that she’d heard from him yet, his hands clenching reflexively in her hair and over her ass. His long, slender fingers slowly slid up under her boy shorts, his large palm grasping at her ass cheek and his fingers splaying over the generous swell. Her ass arched instinctively, rolling first back into his grip and then upwards to encourage him to continue his ministrations.

“Fuck!” she swore sharply, prompting Michael to flinch violently.

She muttered a quick apology into his ear before she began to nibble lightly at his earlobe, licking and sucking at the bit of skin between her lips on occasion. She gasped, feeling him start to perk up in his jeans beneath her, and rocked her hips down into his, testing the waters. He apparently didn’t seem to mind her riding him with their clothes on at least. While it wasn’t quite what she wanted, she would settle for that right now. If she was honest, it was further than she ever thought she’d get with the angel – or was he a former angel now?

But Michael had other plans, his nimble fingers finding their way out of her hair and out from under the back of her panties to find the hem of her shirt.

His gray eyes pierced her with his gaze, the look in his eyes equal parts intensity and heat as he asked, “Would it be all right if I removed this?”

Libby giggled, nodding her head, and replied, “Michael, you can remove anything you want to.”

The grin that stretched across his face then was like that of the cat that had eaten the canary. She’d never seen such a sly look on his face before, but she quite liked it. It made him look devilishly handsome with those gray eyes dark with lust and his blonde hair all ruffled from her fingers. His lips were swollen and pink from her kisses and he was breathing in quick, shallow bursts. But it was the look in those steel colored orbs, that unmistakable, hooded gaze and the desire that was swimming in those stormy, gray depths, that nearly did her in right then and there.

Libby lifted both arms, resting her full weight on him, and Michael groaned, his hands slipping back down to her hips as he arched his hips up into hers, savoring the moment, the sensation of their hips pressed together and the friction it caused sending little jolts of pleasure shooting through his nervous system. It was unlike anything he had ever felt, and it made him more curious now than ever to find out what it would feel like without their clothes restricting their movements.

Seeing his momentary distraction, Libby couldn’t help but giggle, her small hands finding the hem of her top. But Michael shook his head at her, his large hands gently brushing hers aside and slowly sliding the jersey up her body, his hands beneath the material as it bunched above his grasp.

His hands skimmed up her sides, feeling the muscles bunch and jump beneath his touch, raising her shirt as he made the slow trek up her body. He made his way up her slender torso and up to her ribs, a smile twitching at his lips as Elizabeth began to giggle when his fingers brushed over her ribs, her muscles spasming under his fingertips. But then his thumbs were brushing along the underside of her breasts and her giggles trailed off into a low purr. She arched her back, pressing the swell of her breasts closer towards his hands, her body blatantly demanding more from him. And Michael wanted to give it to her. He wanted to give her anything, e _verything,_ she wanted. And he knew that he would, without hesitation, because she was his weakness. She had _always_ been his weakness. He knew that now.

His fingertips brushed against the puckered peaks of her nipples and she gasped, her back bowing towards his hands as her eyes fluttered shut. He paused, growing both silent and still for a brief moment just before his thumb flicked at the pewter colored bar that was inserted through her left nipple, coaxing a rather embarrassingly loud mewling sound from somewhere low in her throat.

“What… What is this for?” he inquired.

“It’s a nipple ring,” she gasped as he continued to tamper with it.

“I… I see that,” he observed, “But what is its purpose?”

If she hadn’t been struggling so hard not to flip him over onto his back and fuck him senseless right there on her bedroom floor, she would have laughed.

Instead, she responded through tightly clenched teeth, “It… It heightens my sense of pleasure…”

“Oh…” he said, his hands never stilling.

His touch was light, gentle, almost even hesitant, as he explored the piercing that she’d gotten on a whim while she was drunk one night in college – the same piercing that she’d initially thought was a mistake upon discovering it once she’d sobered up the next morning, until she’d later figured out just how much it heightened her sense of pleasure. Every brush of his fingertips against that little barbell sent a jolt of pleasure zipping straight down to her core, her inner walls clenching desperately around nothing, longing to be filled.

She whimpered as he toyed with the puckered, pink peaks of her nipples, his thumbs slowly circling them, nudging at her piercing every so often before skirting his fingers back away from it once more. His eyes remained fixed to her face, watching her every facial expression, her every reaction to his slow, experimental touches. Seeing that she seemed to enjoy him teasing the pebbles of her nipples, he began to brush his thumbs back and forth over the sensitive buds, pleased to discover that the gesture coaxed a low purr from the woman he loved. She pressed herself more firmly against his hands, which resulted in Michael cupping the small but perky globes of her breasts in his large hands. This, too, prompted a gasp from her, and he molded his hands over the soft fullness of her chest, his fingers kneading, hands squeezing, as she began to arch her back in earnest, moaning out his name in encouragement. And he had never heard anything sweeter.

Michael leaned in, stealing her lips in a kiss as his fingers started to pluck at the hardened peaks of her nipples, catching the moan that she spilled into the cavern of his mouth and echoing it with one of his own. He touched and tasted every part of her mouth as his hands explored the mounds of flesh they had discovered, cataloguing each and every reaction she gave to his memory and storing it for later use. He savored the silky sensation of her pale, creamy skin under his hands, the smooth, soft flesh yielding beneath his grasp. But the moment was cut short when Elizabeth voiced an impatient grunt, the sound muffled by his mouth, and shimmied on his lap, reaching up to grab the hem of her shirt and pulling back from his lips to yank it up and over her head to toss it somewhere behind her.

Michael couldn’t help but smile at her impatience, chuckling lightly as he shook his head at her. She was still the same, indelicate, impatient, sassy, brutally honest woman he had come to fall in love with during his stay there in her home all those months ago. That had not changed.

She bit her bottom lip, peering down at him from under her long, dark lashes, and brought one hand up to lace her fingers through his mussed, blonde locks, her fingers fisting in the soft strands between them and giving a slight tug to pull his head back so that his eyes were raised from her naked breasts to her emerald gaze.

“Those might be my headlights, but my eyes are up here, handsome,” she teased lightly, a playful glint filling her viridescent eyes as she peered down at him.

Michael couldn’t help but chuckle at that, despite the fact that his dick twitched in his jeans in response to her tugging at his hair. Never in a million years had he ever thought that he would get off on being manhandled. But it was such a swift and natural response. He just couldn’t help it. Each time she raked those painted black nails down his spine or over the nape of his neck, every time she raked them over his scalp or tugged at his hair, or even when she nipped at his bottom lip, it sent his arousal soaring and his dick twitching. So when she leaned down to nip at his cheek, her pouty, pink lips curling up into a wicked grin, he found himself straining against the zipper of his jeans, his large hands grasping at her ass and tugging her right down against his arching hips.

She tipped her head back then, a throaty moan escaping her as her emerald eyes fluttered, threatening to roll back in her head. Her free hand found his shoulder, bracing herself against him as she gave in to him, rolling her hips firmly against his. Michael darted his head forward, his lips finding the long, elegant column of her neck and trailing hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down the length of it. He couldn’t help but wonder if she would respond in kind if he used his teeth on her. So he decided to test that little theory, parting his lips and sinking his teeth into the spot where her neck met her shoulder, and he was rewarded by a low purr, her painted black nails raking over his scalp and digging into his shirt over his shoulder, leaving little red crescents behind. Michael smiled then, using his large hands to guide her motions, and swirled his tongue over her skin to soothe the sting.

“Michael!” she pleaded.

His ears perked up at that and his eyes fluttered open to peer up at her as he slowly eased his mouth away from her pale skin.

“Yes, my love?” he asked.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy,” she huffed, despite the smile that stretched across her pretty face.

She didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, as she wished with all her might that he would take the hint. And he did, almost as if he could sense her thoughts.

He grinned, his hands slowly sliding down the length of her back to slip under the band of her navy, cotton boy shorts, pushing them down over the generous swell of her ass. She lifted her hips, allowing him to slide them down the length of her long, slender legs, legs that went on for miles. Once he could go no further, Libby pushed herself up and off of him, getting to her feet, and Michael growled low in his throat at the sight before him.

He was surprised to discover that she had shaved between her thighs. She was smooth, completely hairless, allowing him to see the swollen, pink lips of her pussy. His mouth began to water then. Why, he wasn’t quite sure, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was kicking her panties off of her left foot and it allowed him a quick glimpse at her slit, which was just mere inches away from his rapt, steely gaze. What mattered was that she smelled like fresh raspberries and warm vanilla and something undeniably musky. What mattered was that she was _just_ close enough that if he leaned out just a _little_ bit…

Without thinking, he darted forward, his tongue flicking out of his mouth and his hands grasping at her hips as he tugged her forward and laved his tongue up the length of her slick slit. The motion drew a sharp gasp out of his human, followed shortly by a desperate mewling sound as her hands scrambled to his shoulders to find purchase there. His brows knitted in concern when he felt more than saw her knees wobble and threaten to give out.

Oh, dear! Had he broken her?

“Michael!” she whined.

His eyes fluttered shut then, a low groan reverberating against her silken folds. That sound was like music to his ears.

“Michael, please!” she begged, her black nails sinking into his skin as she tipped her head back and arched against his face, pressing herself closer to his greedy mouth.

Please what? What did she want from him? She was asking so nicely. Surely, she knew that, whatever she asked of him, he would give it, and willingly so.

He opened his mind to her and listened closely, searching, seeking, until he found his answer.

_Up! Up! Please, just a little higher,_ she thought.

So, he followed her lead, flicking his tongue up the length of her slit until he found a hard little nub hidden between her folds. It, too, was slick with her juices. Was this what she was talking about?

_Yes!_ he heard her cry into his mind, _Yes, there!_

But what was he to do with the little pearl between his lips? He thought for a moment before swirling his tongue over it experimentally. He got the shock of his lifetime when he felt as much as heard her pleasure, a sharp jolt singing through his system, making each of his nerve endings come alive and causing his heart to hammer in his chest, fluttering wildly against his ribcage.

_Yes, please! Please, Michael!_ she chanted in his head.

This strange little bundle must have been full of nerves. And it was certainly just as sensitive as her nipples. It seemed to be the key to giving her pleasure greater than any he had given her yet. So, he decided to experiment. He flicked his tongue over the little nub, coaxing a throaty moan out of his human, feeling her release one of his shoulders from her grasp, only to bring her hand up to cradle the back of his head, holding him against her. He let her rock herself against his mouth, eager for more of her taste, more of the ecstasy that she was sending from her body into his with every flick of his tongue, every suck of his lips, every gentle slide of his teeth. He captured the little bundle of nerves between his lips and groaned, lashing his tongue against it, as Elizabeth whined for him, grinding herself against his face.

Michael didn’t think he would ever get enough of this, enough of her. He watched her, his gray eyes fastened helplessly to her pretty face as she watched him with hooded, emerald eyes. He watched as she tipped her head back, whining for him as her nails raked over his scalp. He groaned against her heated flesh, feeling the sparks of arousal sizzling through him. He heard her begging, pleading, praising and cursing. Her voice was growing deeper, huskier, rougher. Her presence was steady in his mind now, chanting _Don’t stop_ over and over again as she ground herself against his eager mouth. His face was smeared with her wetness, his chin slick and his mouth framed by the musky, honeyed taste of her. But he couldn’t stop, bringing his mouth down to her slit to lick her in earnest, practically devouring her as he growled his approval against her slick slit before bringing his mouth back up to her clit again.

He felt a change in her then, her breathing becoming quick and shallow, the rolling of her hips becoming frantic and disjointed. Her painted black nails dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair.

_Michael! Michael, please! Oh, God, please!_ she shouted inside his mind.

She could no longer put coherent thoughts together, the only sounds she was able to make physically were desperate, keening whines and mewls, voicing the occasional whimper somewhere in between. She was panting, her small breasts heaving with every staggered breath she took. But still, her hips rocked, moving to a feverish tempo that was all her own. Still, she whined and whimpered as she worked herself against his greedy mouth. Still, he licked and lapped and sucked at her, groaning out his approval as she singed his senses with her pleasure. And then she broke, a shockwave of ecstasy hitting him like a freight train. He was nearly bowled over backwards from the force of it, her hips bucking against him in swift, jerky motions as the pleasure pulsed straight from her core into his mind. That pleasure roared through him like a tidal wave, rocking his very foundations and coaxing a strangled growl from him as he felt his senses rippling with echoes of his own pleasure, his hips jerking as he experienced his first orgasm, his cock twitching within the denim confines of his jeans as he pulsed until he was spent.

Michael tumbled to the floor, gasping as he stared up at his boneless human lover, her emerald eyes wide in shock as she peered down at him with her head tilted slightly to one side. Michael gasped, struggling to refill his lungs with much-needed oxygen as he tried to recover.

“Did you just…?” Libby started to ask before she trailed off.

Did he seriously just cum in his pants? Simply from eating her out?

“I… I think so…” he panted.

Her ebony brows hiked up her forehead and she replied, “No fucking way.”

Michael didn’t even flinch at the curse word. He was becoming used to it by now, after all the curses that he’d heard slip from her mind into his.

The smile that curled at his lips was easily the most adorable thing she had ever seen, equal parts lazy and satisfied.

“Well then…” she said, stepping to one side and lowering herself down onto the carpet beside him, “That’s not exactly how I’d hoped your first orgasm would go, but –,”

“Oh, quite on the contrary!” he was quick to protest, “It was _wonderful! Spectacular!”_

She let out a single snort of laughter and shook her head at him, a smile curling at her lips despite herself.

“Well, when you recover, I’ll show you how a _real_ orgasm feels,” she promised, winking down at him as her lips curled into a wicked grin and her viridescent eyes sparkled with mischief.

Michael knew then that he was in trouble.

He gave a slow nod, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath to calm his racing heart, a smile gracing his lips when he felt her reach out to run her fingers through his mussed hair.

She let him have a moment to gather himself before he felt her nudging at his arm. He let his eyes flutter open then, his steely gaze finding her standing once more, peering down at him. That wicked grin curled at her full lips and she gave a little jerk of her head towards the bed.

Michael nodded, pushing himself up into a seated position and taking the hand she extended towards him. She helped him to his feet, lacing her long, delicate fingers through his and tugging him gently towards her queen-sized bed.

Once he was standing in front of the foot of her bed, she placed one hand on his shoulder, pushing lightly until he got the hint and lowered himself to sit on the edge of her bed. Then she was kneeling in front of him, curling her long legs up under her and placing her hands on his thighs.

Libby eased his thighs apart, her motions slow and gentle, so as to ease him into it. She wanted to give him plenty of time to back out, if he chose to do so.

She watched him, her emerald eyes fixed to his face. She saw his brows furrow, curiosity filling those steely gray eyes as he gazed down at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked her.

Libby just laughed, a slow, crooked smirk curling at her lips as she informed him, “Well… I _was_ going to return the favor. Unless you have any objections…?”

She waited a beat, giving him yet another chance to change his mind.

But his brows shot up his forehead and he started to sputter, “I… I mean you… You’re going to…? You really don’t have to! I didn’t use my mouth on you so that you would pay me back! I just… Well, I couldn’t help myself, not really. I just saw you like that, standing so close, and I wanted to see how you tasted… down there… I don’t really know what came over me… I just… One minute, I was sitting there, staring at you and the next, I had my face buried… Well, you know where!”

She giggled, her lips parted, eyes darting between his cock and his eyes, noticing how they darkened to a dark, stormy gray as the realization of just what she was going to do finally sank in. He was blushing to beat a damn tomato, his chest a bright shade of pink, the color creeping up the length of his neck to fill his cheeks. Even his ears took on a bright shade of red. He looked so damn cute, floundering around for his words. So, she decided to put him out of his misery.

“Michael,” she said with a smile, “I know I don’t _have_ to do it. I _want_ to do it. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to do it.”

He nodded at that and she watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed hard. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, her eyes darting back down to his cock for a moment before meeting his eyes once more.

She brought one hand up, lightly trailing her finger along the underside of his cock, her fingertip barely grazing the sensitive skin as she traced the vein there, from the root of him, clear up to the ridge that separated his shaft from the head of his cock.

Michael’s back bowed, his eyes rolling back in his head and his head lolling back as his hips bucked towards her hand. Libby took that as her cue to continue, wrapping her hand around the base of his shaft and slowly sliding it up the length of him. She smiled to herself as she watched him. She’d always heard the girls in high school and college whispering about how to tell if a guy had a nice cock. She’d heard more than once that “seven inches or more was a keeper” by most girls’ standards. Well, Michael put that standard to shame. In fact, he was probably eight inches hard, wide enough in the girth that she couldn’t touch her middle finger and thumb together when she tried to wrap her hand around him and broad enough in the head that she knew it was going to be quite a stretch. But what did one expect? He was a fucking angel, a perfect specimen of God’s greatest creation.

“Not… perfect…” he gasped, just before she lowered her mouth.

She flattened her tongue and swirled it around the broad head slowly, just to tease him, reveling in the strangled groan that escaped from between his tightly clenched teeth. He had his hands fisted in the black comforter on her bed and his thighs trembled under her hands as she swirled her tongue around him once more. Then she was sliding her mouth slowly down the length of his shaft, her jaw popping to allow her mouth to accommodate his impressive cock.

She curled her tongue around the underside of his cock, cradling his shaft, and slowly worked her way back up his length, wrapping her hand around what she couldn’t reach with her mouth. She was rewarded by another of those deep, rumbling groans that had her growing wet between the thighs again.

Libby picked up a slow, steady rhythm, giving him time to savor the moment, giving him time to adjust. And, judging by the sounds he was making, he was _certainly_ indulging in the new sensations. In fact, he seemed quite overwhelmed. It seemed that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands, letting them fist in the comforter first before they scrambled over the thick, black material and then rested on first her shoulders, only to resituate one behind her head and the other to grip at the edge of the bed. He cried out, his face stretching into a mask of uninhibited pleasure as his mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back into his head.

His hips arched subtly, his body coaxing her to continue without his brain’s explicit consent, and she began to swirl her tongue around his shaft as she bobbed her head up and down along his length. She sucked and swirled, letting her teeth lightly rake over his hot, hard, sensitive flesh every now and then. She basked in every groan, every growl, every cry of ecstasy. She clenched her thighs, feeling herself growing wetter by the second and not wanting to leave a puddle underneath her on the carpet. She teased the head once more, twirling her tongue around the broad, bulbous head before nibbling lightly around the ridge that separated the head from his shaft.

Michael didn’t know how much more of her teasing he could take. His head was already swimming in desire, his thighs trembling, his every nerve like a livewire, sparking every time she touched him with that warm, wet, velvety tongue or her soft, warm lips brushed against his skin. He could feel her arousal teasing his mind, rolling off of her in steady waves to crash against his senses, only adding to his own ecstasy.

He had never known what he was missing, had never known that pleasure could be so intense. He had never known that he could experience something so utterly, unexplainably incredible. Had he known what he was missing out on when he’d taken the vow to remain celibate as an angel all those millennia ago, he might’ve thought twice. Now he could see what all the humans raved about. Now he could understand why they craved it so.

He felt that electric sensation tingling along his spine, sizzling its way up from the base of his spine. He tried to warn her. He really did. But when he opened his mouth, the only sound that escaped him was a sharp, wailing sort of whine as his hips started to thrust in earnest, nearly causing the head of his dick to collide with the back of her throat. But his Elizabeth took it in stride, easing her mouth back just a bit so that he wouldn’t gag her and sucking harder at the head of his cock until he came in a hot, wet rush.

He gave a stuttered, strangled groan, his hips jerking and his cock twitching as he emptied himself into her waiting mouth. She never missed a beat, swallowing it down and gently sucking to make sure that he was empty. Then she used her tongue to lick him clean. When she finally pulled back, those emerald eyes were sparkling, a little self-satisfied smirk curling at her lips as she licked them clean. To his utter amazement, she hadn’t missed a single drop. There were no traces of him on her chin or around her mouth.

Once her mouth was off of him, Michael fell back onto the bed with a flop and a heavy sigh.

“Well…” she teased lightly, her viridescent eyes glimmering playfully, “I’m glad to see you enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh, most definitely!” he gasped out between panting, ragged breaths.

She slowly crawled up his body, making sure that her smooth, pale skin slid against his as she moved to curl up beside him, lying on her side with one leg draped between his. She trailed a single fingertip up from his hip, tracing the barest hint of his hip bone before dipping her finger into his belly button and coaxing a sudden fit of giggles from him. Then she resumed her course, making her way on up the length of his lean torso to the firm expanse of his chest.

“Good,” she told him, grinning devilishly down at him, “Because I’m just getting started with you.”

Michael’s brows nearly met his hairline at that, but he had no objections, not if whatever she had in mind felt even _half_ as good as her mouth wrapped around him.

He felt her slowly working one fingertip around the slowly puckering peak of his nipple, sending little jolts of pleasure shooting through his system. She gazed down at him with those enchanting, emerald eyes, a wicked grin curling at her lips just before she lowered her head, her eyes never leaving his as she darted her tongue out of her mouth to lap at the rigid peak of his nipple. Michael growled then, the sound grating through his tightly clenched teeth, and his back bowed as his hands fisted in her comforter.

How could one human woman be such a tease? Was it even possible for other women to be so tantalizing or was it just because it was Elizabeth? He shook his head, deciding that it didn’t matter because he would never be interested in another. All he cared about was her. And now he had his whole life to spend with her.

Libby felt her lips curling up into a sly little smirk, her teeth grazing against the sensitive peak between them and drawing a hiss from her fallen angel. She chased the sting with her tongue, teasing him for just a moment more before she moved to straddle him, lowering herself so that she was positioned over his stomach. She felt his hands reach up to settle over her hips and she grinned wolfishly down at him, arching her hips to leave a wet trail across his skin as her wet folds slid against the lean muscles of his abdomen.

Like Libby, Michael was tall. While she was tall for a woman, standing at 5’9”, he was even taller, reaching probably 6’2” or 6’3”. He was lean, almost even lanky, built with long, slender arms and legs, broad shoulders, a firm chest, and a slim waist. Libby had never really been a fan of her body. She had always thought she looked too gangly, too scrawny. Like Michael, her arms and legs were long and slender, but her frame looked almost delicate compared to his – or anyone else’s for that matter. Her waist was too narrow, her hip bones a little too prominent, her ribs even showing just beneath her skin. But most of that was a result of losing twenty pounds after she’d lost Michael.

She felt Michael’s hands slowly sliding up her sides, traveling up the length of her long torso before they reached her ribs. His thumbs teased the underside of her breasts and she rocked against him once more, curling her body in on itself as she leaned down to capture his lips with hers for a searing kiss. Their tongues tangled, lips fighting for dominance until Michael submitted to her with a throaty groan. She didn’t let her lips part from his until she had to pull back to suck in a lungful of oxygen. But she never stilled her hips.

Michael had the burning curiosity to find out just what that wet, sticky sensation was against his stomach, his steely gaze slowly lowering until he found the source of the wetness. He gasped, his eyes growing wide upon discovering that it was Elizabeth’s juices dripping onto him, smearing over his skin every time she rocked herself against him. She was dripping wet, her folds slick and shining with her desire, and he couldn’t help but reach out to feel it for himself.

Libby’s hips jerked when she felt it, her viridescent irises flicking down to find his long, slender fingers exploring her, trailing lightly over her folds first before they gently parted them to give a long, languid slide over her slick center. She moaned, the sound low and husky, as she rolled her hips towards his hand, encouraging him to continue his ministrations. And he did, slowly easing his middle finger inside of her before using his thumb to press lightly against her clit, rubbing her as he fucked her with his finger.

“Yes!” she praised, arching her hips towards him and riding his hand, slicking his palm with her desire.

It wasn’t long before he was adding another finger into the equation, picking up a steady rhythm. But Libby had other plans, whimpering as she eased herself off of his fingers and scrambled back to perch herself over his hips. She reached down with one hand, wrapping it firmly around his rigid shaft, and positioned the head of his cock between her slick folds. She teased his broad head up and down the length of her wet slit, coating him in her juices, before she positioned him right at her entrance.

Michael’s eyes went wide as he realized what she intended to do, his hands grasping her hips until she was sure that there would be marks on her pale skin. But she didn’t care. She simply braced her hands on his stomach and slowly lowered herself down onto him.

Michael watched, completely enrapt by his Elizabeth. He didn’t miss a single detail, not the way that her head fell back and a long, sharp whine escaped her, not the way that her fingers curled and her nails dug into his skin, not the way that her eyes rolled back into her head just before they fluttered shut. He didn’t miss the way that her inner walls contracted rhythmically around his hard length, gripping at him in a warm, wet welcome as she slowly sank down on him, one inch at a time. And even though it took every _fiber_ of his self-control, every muscle in his body growing tense and taut and his whole body shaking as he struggled to keep himself in check, he somehow managed to keep himself still for her. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to make her feel rushed or obligated. What mattered most, despite his whole body screaming at him to just move – thrust, pull her down on him, heck _anything –_ was her comfort.

So he bided his time, letting her slowly sink down on him until she could go no further and giving her a moment to adjust as her body tried to acclimate itself to his length and girth inside of her, and, once she had opened her eyes and lowered her head to peer down at him, Michael gently shifted her hips and angled his so that she could take that last inch inside of her. She whimpered then, her fingers curling over his abdomen and her nails piercing his skin again as she hummed her approval. Michael felt the vibrations traveling down his cock and straight to his core, coaxing a rough growl to rumble up from somewhere deep within him.

Elizabeth nodded to him, moving her hands to brace herself against the firm expanse of his broad chest, and began to move. Michael was lost to sensation, feeling every push of her hips that slid him further inside of her, every pull of her inner walls against him as she eased her hips back. He felt her hands rubbing against his chest with every arch of her hips, her thumbs brushing against his sensitive nipples, which only served to excite him further. He felt her slick desire running down the length of his shaft and easing the way for his hard length to penetrate her faster, deeper. He felt every smooth roll of her hips, sliding him inside of her over and over. He could feel the vibration every time she moaned for him, the sensation traveling down his length, shooting straight to his core. And, _oh,_ how wrong he’d been! This might actually be even better than her mouth.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, his human lover leaned down to capture his lips with hers, seeking out his tongue and sucking gently on it as she mimicked the motions that their bodies were making further south. And suddenly, it was too much for him to take. He was crying out, his hands traveling her body, one sliding up into her long, ebony hair to fist his fingers in it and the other roaming down to cup her ass and coax her into hurrying her motions along. He grunted with each thrust as he jerked his hips up into hers, quickening his pace and intensifying the force behind each thrust until he was throwing his head back and practically roaring his ecstasy to the ceiling, his body trembling and jerking as he spent himself inside of her.

He watched in awe as Elizabeth pushed herself up to sit upright on top of him once more, using one hand to brace herself as she continued to rock her hips hard against his and sliding the other down her body until she reached the place where their bodies met. Michael’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider as he watched on in surprise and disbelief as she parted her slick folds and used her index and middle finger to start working firm circles over that little bundle of nerves that sat just above where their bodies were joined. He felt her inner walls flutter and squeeze at him, her hips bucking erratically and her head flying back as she gasped and shuddered above him, her thighs trembling, until she finally reached her climax, nearly screaming as she voiced her pleasure.

When she had rode through the waves of pleasure, the same ones that had crashed into him and nearly thrown him into another fit of passion, she grew still and peered down at him, a slow, lazy smile curling at her lips.

“Feel better?” she asked, her voice a low, husky purr.

“Oh, _much,_ thank you!” he exclaimed, unable to keep the stupid grin from stretching clear across his face.

She just laughed, shaking her head at him, and moved off of him, letting herself land beside him on the comforter in a pile of loose limbs and sweat-soaked skin.

With the only remaining strength she possessed, she reached out to grasp his chin in her hand and turn it so that she could press her lips to his for a sweet, salty kiss.

“I love you, Michael,” she murmured, pressing her forehead to his and giving a contented little sigh.

“And I you, Elizabeth,” he replied.

“I hope you don’t mind me waking you a few times for a repeat performance?” she questioned, yawning as soon as the words were out.

“Not at all,” he told her.

She smiled up at him, her dark lashes fluttering, and, before he could say another word, she was out.

Michael smiled as he gazed down at her, curling his arm around her to keep her tucked in close to his side and reveling in the silky feeling of her smooth, pale skin against his. He pressed a kiss to his sleeping beauty’s forehead and stared up at the ceiling until he too drifted off to sleep.

** Lyrics from the Song: **

_Ashes of Eden_ by Breaking Benjamin

**Author's Note:**

> Well, if you've successfully managed to read this story in its entirety, I want to congratulate you. I also want to let you know that I may or may not be writing more stories about these two characters in the future. It all depends on both the amount of interest there is from readers to learn more about this couple and whether my Michael muse decides to grace me with its presence again. As always, I look very forward to hearing from you and I hope you enjoyed this.


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